The Military Wife (A Heart of a Hero, #1)(21)

Some burdens were his to bear alone for the rest of his days.

“I know you miss Noah. I do, too. But I have nothing else to say.” He presented his back, his entire body tensed, his heartbeat blocking any noise. After what felt like an eternity, gravel crunched under tires and he looked over his shoulder. She was gone.

He should be glad she’d given up and left. Instead of relief, disappointment coursed through him.





Chapter 6


Past

“I’m not sure about this.” Noah smoothed the brown button-down shirt of his uniform.

Bennett slunk down in the backseat and hung on to the headrest to keep from getting flung across the seat into Noah on every turn. Hollis was driving, the only one of them with a car on base, and he darted down side streets like the local he was.

Hollis glanced up at the rearview mirror. “Not sure about what? Getting laid?”

“I’m only nineteen for one thing. The club probably won’t even let me in.”

Hollis chuckled, shook his head, and stopped short at the next red light. “Dude. That uniform you’re wearing is your ID and your panty dropper. That’s half the reason I joined up. Seen it all my life around here. The chicks go nuts over your bravery and shit. It’s not even a challenge, but I’ll take it.” Hollis exchanged a slapping handshake with Carter, who was sprawled in the shotgun seat.

Bennett kept his response to an eye roll. Hollis and Carter didn’t like him, but the way they avoided him at chow time and the whispers that stopped when he walked into their shared room didn’t bother Bennett at all.

But Noah had pleaded with him to come along, his nerves obvious, and Bennett couldn’t leave him hanging with Hollis and Carter as wingmen. That would have been plain cruel. Besides, seeing something beyond the concrete walls and the grinder while enjoying cold beer sounded appealing.

Carter draped an arm along the back of Hollis’s seat and twisted around, putting his large hooked nose in profile. The setting sun highlighted the constellation of acne on his visible cheek. “By the way, if we find some willing women, you boys will need alternative transportation home.”

Bennett couldn’t help but admire the man’s confidence, no matter how misplaced. “If you find a woman with beer goggles that thick then congratulations and have fun.”

Carter’s eye narrowed on Bennett. The attempt at intimidation fell short. Way short. Hollis’s laughter was like an engine misfiring. “Ah, the boys in the back don’t get it. But they will.” Hollis and Carter exchanged another slapping shake that seemed congratulatory before they’d even walked into the bar.

Bennett stared out the side window feeling a couple of decades older than Hollis and Carter. Not that he could fault them. Bennett had been them, or a lot like them, anyway, his first couple of years in the service. It was heady stuff until you realized the women only saw the uniform and didn’t care what was underneath.

Hollis pulled in to the parking lot of a squat white cement club with a neon sign and arrow proclaiming Gin Boogie Bar.

Clumps of people gathered around the parking lot, smoking and cutting up. From the corner of his eye, he caught the interested glances of a few women already. The bass beat of music thrummed his chest.

Noah fell behind and Bennett slowed his pace. Hollis and Carter disappeared into the blackened maw of the club.

Noah stopped and grabbed Bennett’s arm. He was looking around like someone might pull a gun at any minute. “This place is sketchy.”

To Bennett it didn’t look any different from the dozens of other bars and clubs he’d walked into over the years. He clapped Noah on the back. “Come on. Let’s grab a couple of beers and get the lay of the land. We can always get a cab back to base.”

Noah’s reluctance was palpable, but he stayed on Bennett’s heels. The black, three-hundred-pound bouncer on the stool out front waved them in.

“He didn’t even ask for our IDs.” Noah had to raise his voice to be heard over the music and everyone else.

Bennett hit Noah’s chest with the back of his hand. “It’s the uniform, man. Hollis is a horny idiot, but he’s right about that. Let find a spot at the bar.”

Bennett scythed through the crowd, his uniform and size clearing a path, and he and Noah took up a corner of the bar. The female bartender walked over as soon as Bennett signaled with two fingers, wiping her hands on a formerly white towel thrown over her shoulder before propping her arms on the bar and leaning over.

“What can I get you boys?”

“An ice-cold longneck, if you have it.”

She nodded, raising her eyebrows in Noah’s direction. He held up two fingers. She was back in thirty seconds with the beers, condensation dripping down the sides. Bennett drank half of his in one go, the cold slipping down his throat and through his body like nectar. It had been before BUD/S training since he’d had a drink, and damn, it was good.

Noah killed his, too, and the bartender returned with two more without asking. This one Bennett savored. He turned and took in the scene.

A dance floor took up the far corner, mostly populated by women and surrounded by men checking them out. Tables and chairs were strewn in the space between the dance floor and the bar with clumps of friends or couples sitting close. Waitresses circulated with trays lined with shots.

A half hour passed with Noah and Bennett sharing two more beers. Two women approached, both cookie-cutter pretty but too drunk to carry on a conversation. When one of the women fell into Noah and he brushed her off like she had cooties, they moved on. Noah visibly relaxed.